


Monday, Monday

by Vsquaredk



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vsquaredk/pseuds/Vsquaredk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Before they knew it, they were living together."</p><p>Reunions, house cats, and house swaps, oh my!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You and I Collide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelffxmaniac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelffxmaniac/gifts).



> **_Warning_ : Author has a tendency to not finish things she starts. She apologizes in advance.**
> 
>  
> 
> Basically, I owe angelffxmaniac a fluff fic, so instead of writing her a drabble, i'm forcing myself to publish unfinished work (again).
> 
> Also, I haven't watched anything beyond season 3, and I kind of want to ignore everything since then so..... there's that.

They bumped into each other for the first time in forever early one ungodly Monday morning in late spring. Rachel was out for a jog that unseasonably warm morning, and Quinn needed coffee, since the machine she had at home (which she had bought in sophomore year of college, poor thing) had basically all but burst into flames and she figured she could get her caffeine en route to the office. The collision was nearly cinematic, with Rachel, all yoga pants, sports bra and ear buds, and glistening with exertion, turning a corner and running straight into Quinn. All things considered, the latter woman had not yet caffeinated, which explained why she fell backwards onto her ass with an animalistic grunt. Any residual bitterness still left between them from high school was lost the moment Rachel, standing over the downed Quinn with an apologetic smile, offered to buy coffee for the two of them at the closest coffee shop.

(To say Quinn was late for work that day was more than a slight understatement, but, being Quinn Fabray, she was well ahead of her work, and the late was a non-issue entirely.)

Before they knew it, they were living together. Not literally, but Quinn had a small section in Rachel's closet (half work clothes, half casual) and knew the security guards by name, and Rachel had a set of keys to Quinn's condo, items of her nightly ritual strewn across Quinn's bathroom countertop, and a pastel pink towel on the rack that didn't match Quinn's modern, minimalistic decor. (Quinn's condo was closer to Broadway than Rachel's was, so, after the fifth time in as many days an exhausted Rachel woke Quinn from her much needed rest after her show, Quinn had a key cut for her, and told her to just make herself at home on the pull out couch whenever she needed.) Despite this, they only really saw each other in passing. Quinn would see the prone, blanketed form on the couch that her cat, Toby, had abandoned her for, and would make sure to make extra breakfast, or Rachel, on her way to her evening show, would pass Quinn as she slipped into Rachel's condo for a quick change of clothes before her weekly yoga class. There were, of course, the rare nights when Rachel would get to Quinn's condo and find Quinn asleep on the couch with the television on (wherein Rachel would gently lead a half asleep Quinn to her bed after turning off the TV), or unwinding from an evening out with her friends. On nights like this, they would make small talk as Rachel went through her nightly routine, and then, sometimes, they would fall asleep to some weird rerun from a show gone by and wake up propped up against one another, cat snuggled up somewhere between them.

However, it wasn't long before Monday evenings unofficially became "Rachel and Quinn time", a sacred weekly time between the two. Sometimes there would be others to join them, like friends, family, cast mates and coworkers, or whomever they were dating at the time, but most of the time, Quinn found herself at Rachel's condo after a horrible start to the work week, sinking into Rachel's opulent chaise lounge as Rachel chose something to watch on the TiVo, after which they would head out to Rachel's favorite karaoke dive bar for a drink or two, so that Rachel could, as she said it, check out the competition. (There was one Monday when Quinn was out of the city on a conference, and they compromised by watching Forrest Gump together over video chat. Toby wasn't as fond of the movie, but Rachel assured Quinn he had been well behaved, fed and watered the whole time she had been gone, but please never leave again, since Skype just didn't compare to shared body warmth on her couch. Quinn had merely nodded, eyes twinkling with mirth when Rachel's nose wrinkled slightly when she expressed her disappointment in having to feed Toby meat products, being vegan, even though she understood the reason why, seeing as cats were naturally carnivorous, so please hurry back because the smell wasn't incredibly pleasant for her to deal with every day.)

It was the Monday after they finished the last episode of Friends for the umpteenth time that changed things. Quinn received a text from Rachel requesting tissues and vegan ice cream, and frantically begged off work early with promises to work late for the rest of the week.

Forty minutes later, Quinn was bursting  into Rachel's flat, grocery bag nearly ripping from the weight of the sorbet she had purchased and overflowing with tissues. At the noise, Rachel glanced up from the couch, eyes raw and red from her tears.

"He broke up with me." Her eyes flooded with new tears, causing Quinn to fumble with the top of a box of Kleenex before thrusting it into Rachel's lap.

Collapsing next Rachel on the couch, Quinn opened her arms for the other girl as her face twisted into an angry snarl. Rachel threw her arms around Quinn, burrowing into her neck and continuing to sob. "I'll kill him." Quinn's voice, drastically different from her typical lilting alto, dropped to a deep, menacing growl.

Through her tears, Rachel gave a slight giggle (it sounded like a hiccup). "You say that every time." Rachel's breath tickled Quinn's neck, making her twitch slightly.

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she pulled away to poke Rachel's arm playfully, before turning and throwing an arm back around the actress. "I mean it every time, you know."

"Sure you do." Closing her eyes, Rachel rested her head on the taller woman's shoulder, and allowed herself a small smile. 

"Just because you don't see the body count doesn't mean it doesn't exist," Quinn intoned seriously, arm tightening around Rachel's shoulder. "Coach trained us well, you know." 

A nod, a pause, then, "I'm sorry for making you skip work."

"It's fine." Quinn smiled softly. "It was just a shitty Monday anyway. Your misery is much more entertaining."

Rachel wrinkled her nose. "You're too kind."

Quinn chuckled, reaching for the remote. "Let's get this frozen-dessert-eating, bad-movie-watching thing started then, shall we?"

They were halfway through their third movie and second pint of sorbet when Rachel suddenly stood and stretched. "I think I need to immerse myself in a new space. A new environment, if you will." Quinn cocked her eyebrow, moderately amused by her antics. "It's just, this place is so... I don't know. I'm tired of it. I need some fresh inspiration."

Quinn chuckled, focus still mostly on the sappy romance movie on the screen. "I like it. It's close to my work, and it's got your flavour all over it."

"You can have it, if you'd like, if I can live at your place?" Quinn laughed raucously until she turned and noticed Rachel's serious expression. She knew that expression.

"You're serious? No!" Quinn's exclamation was superimposed with her shooting up in her seat, on high alert.

"Not forever, of course, since, despite everything, I'm rather attached to my condominium. Just for, say, about a month, or maybe a week or two to start. It would be like a mini pseudo-vacation house swap!"

Quinn opened her mouth to repeat her protestation, but stopped herself before collapsing back onto the chaise and muttering, "Commuting is a real pain..."

"Exactly!" Rachel nodded sagely before flourishing towards the general apartment. "And I need to get away from anything that directly reminds me of Lee." She clapped her hands in finality. "It's the perfect plan! Now I just have inform Alex of this arrangement."

Quinn frantically grabbed at Rachel's hand as she fumbled for her phone to call her personal assistant. "Slow down, Rach! I haven't agreed to anything yet!" Rachel just smirked down at Quinn, eyebrow raised in challenge. (Quinn silently cursed herself for teaching the actress her perfect eyebrow arch for that role that one time. She was too good at it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic Title from The Mamas and Papas song, "Monday, Monday"  
> Chapter Title from Howie Day's song, "Collide"


	2. Nine in the corner, Five in the side

Two Mondays, about fifteen drinks, and an incredibly detailed Powerpoint outlining the pros and cons of the swap (whilst under the influence of said drinks), later, saw a smiling Rachel stepping into Quinn's pad on a Monday morning, a rather large case of luggage in tow. She surveyed Quinn's apartment before nodding once. This was her living area for three weeks, and she was going to have the best time!

On the other end of town, a sour-faced, obscenity muttering Quinn entered Rachel's foyer with a bulging duffel bag hung on her shoulder. She grunted hello to a cheery Steve, waved off Jackie as she moved to help her carry her bag, and closed the elevator door in some random tenant's face. She was less than impressed by how the swap had come out.

Her mood improved drastically upon her discovery of Rachel's Tassimo on the island in the kitchen, however, preloaded with her favorite coffee, along with a post-it note (in Rachel's writing, complete with a gold star sticker) notifying her that her favorite fixings could be found in the fridge, and that she should make herself at home, this was going to be fun!

After her second coffee, Quinn almost believed her. (After her third, she decided it was imperative that at the end of this experiment, she got herself a fancy coffee maker like Rachel's.) 

* * *

Rachel’s apartment, after work, was quieter than Quinn had anticipated, what with Rachel being at Quinn’s apartment and not at her own. Quinn attempted to pass the time by finding somewhere to hang her clothes as the television played in the background, but the condo seemed quite empty without Rachel (or Toby) to help her fill it. Steeling herself (and attempting to ignore tiny inklings of the possibility of codependency forming, since, if that were the case, she was already too far gone to be saved, and had been for a very long time), Quinn decided to make the journey down to where Rachel was.

Not long afterwards, Quinn was standing outside her apartment, hand raised to knock on the door (and trying incredibly hard to ignore the irony of knocking on her own door), when Rachel ripped it open and ran right into her, bowling her right off of her feet. When Rachel finished apologizing profusely and Quinn finished laughing (Rachel would be the type to bowl people over, and the number of times Rachel professed to doing so while walking down the street was downright comical), Rachel sat up, eyes gleaming excitedly when she saw who she had knocked over.

“Just the person I was hoping to bump into!” Quinn’s peals of laughter drew a look of disdain of her neighbour, who exited the elevator to two giggling grown women on the floor of the hallway. Even worse, he had to step over them to reach his door.

With a nod of apology, Quinn dragged Rachel back into the condo, where they collapsed into further fits of giggles.

"We need to stop doing that." Quinn gasped for air, holding her stomach.

"It is most definitely a common occurrence for us, isn't it?" Rachel sobered as Quinn caught her breath. "Quinn, where is your closest vegan take out location? Or, for that matter, your vegan fair trade supermarket?"

Quinn merely blinked owlishly at her in response.

"You don't know?"

Quinn shook her head as she pulled out her phone. "Let me google that for you, though." She fiddled with her phone for a moment before looking back up at Rachel with a smirk. "What were you going to do when you ran into me? Just walk around until you found someplace?"

Rachel shrugged, rolling her eyes. "I know the places to eat near work, so I was just going to go to one of those, but now that you're here, I thought it prudent to ask you."

Quinn conceded the point, and went back to her phone. "There's apparently a place just three minutes from here that has good ratings, if you want to go?" 

Rachel nodded, bashful when her stomach growled at the mention of food. "Go change into something else so we can get drinks after, if we want." Quinn looked down at her after-work sweats, amused, before heading to her bedroom.

Moments later, Rachel heard Quinn squeak, before stalking back over. "What have you done to my room?!"

Rachel tilted her head, confused. "From what I understand about our arrangement, it's my room for the next three weeks, is it not?"

Quinn sputtered, furious. "The bed!"

"The duvet cover, actually."

Quinn ignored Rachel's correction. "It's bright purple!"

"Actually, it's not purple. It's fuchsia." Rachel crossed her arms, holding back a smirk at Quinn's antics. "I made myself at home, if that's ok with you."

"Fine." Quinn scowled. "What else have you changed?"

Rachel scoffed. "Really?" Quinn nodded, seemingly angry. "Well, I alphabetized your DVDs, CDs and books, the books by author, of course, and tightened your bookshelves a bit to make room for my Tonys."

Quinn tried not to laugh. Rachel brought her Tonys with her?

"Oh, and I'll make sure I get Alex to replace the glasses I broke when I moved your dishes around..." Quinn stared at her, confused. "I'm short, so I can only reach the bottom shelf."

Rachel's deadpan broke Quinn's angry facade. "That all doesn't seem too bad." She shrugged. "Tell me you still have my duvet cover, though." Rachel nodded, stating it was in the closet, and Quinn smiled, walking back to her room. "I'll get changed. Be back in a sec."

Quinn found Rachel sitting on the couch about ten minutes later, petting a purring Toby, when she stepped out of her room in a simple body-hugging black dress and a white jacket, hair thrown up into a simple, moderately nice up do. Before greeting the other girl, she noticed that Rachel was humming a song to the cat. She quickly (and silently) fished out her phone for a quick video, before putting it away and padding over to the two of them.

"Is that what you did all day, besides organize everything?"

Rachel jumped slightly, before turning to Quinn and giggling. "Perhaps. You'll have to ask Toby to be sure." Toby merely meowed in response, annoyed because Rachel had stopped petting him. "I may want joint custody of your cat by the end of our experiment."

Quinn shrugged. "He sleeps with you more when you're here anyway." Rachel laughed, and Toby just stalked away. Humans were always so dense. "Let's go get food."

Nodding, Rachel stood and brushed off her dress before making her way to their shoes. She was in the middle of putting on a pair of pumps when she looked up at Quinn and smirked. "You clean up pretty well, Miss Fabray." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "This is a far cry from your usual fare."

Quinn merely rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

Rachel was moderately surprised by the quality of the food at the hole in the wall vegan restaurant Quinn had found online, and soon they were at Quinn's favourite karaoke-less bar, Rachel with her merlot and Quinn with her IPA. Quinn was attempting to teach Rachel how to play darts, but Rachel wasn't a very quick study.

Quinn laughed as Rachel threw yet another dart completely off target, making Rachel indignant. "It gets harder the more you drink! Why is it even a bar game?"

"That's what makes it fun, Rach! Its like a handicap!" But Rachel didn't agree at all.

Shaking her head, Quinn led the other girl to the pool table. "At least tell me you can play pool?"

Rachel nodded. "I'm a little rusty, but I was a bit of a pool shark by the time I was finished my run as Dolly." Quinn arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "The cast taught me. They were as distraught about my lack of pool knowledge as you were about my proficiency with darts, or lack thereof." Rachel grinned smugly up at Quinn. "They said I was good."

Quinn laughed, scrunching her nose up. "Maybe when you were sober." Rachel snorted, nodding profusely. Quinn meandered over to the rack and pulled down two pool cues, handing the shorter one to Rachel.

They were just about to start round four of pool (Quinn was sufficiently surprised by Rachel's proficiency when she was trounced the first game, had upped her game for a much closer second and third rounds, but still had yet to win) when two young men sauntered over, asking for a game. They stank of aftershave and too much cheap cologne, and Quinn watched Rachel eye their PBR as an eyebrow crept upwards in intrigue.

Brett-with-two-t's smirkingly suggested a classic boys-vs-girls rivalry, and William-but-call-me-Billie slapped fifty dollars on the faded green felt of the table. Rachel merely smirked into her wine glass before asking Quinn to pass her her clutch.

The game took ten turns. Ten turns. Quinn shook her head, impressed, as she slipped the bills into Rachel's clutch. Brett and Bill were being awarded silver star stickers by Rachel for coming in second place (of two). "An A for effort, boys." As the men slunk off, Rachel spun around to face Quinn, eyes wide and shining in excitement.

"That was incredibly exhilarating!" Quinn laughed. "Billiards is my second favorite bar game!" That karaoke was her favourite wasn't even mentioned.

"Let's go, sharkie." She threw her arm around Rachel, leaning her head on Rachel's. "You can come back another night, and win all the games in the world."

Quinn could practically feel Rachel beam. "That would be exciting. What's this bar called again?"

"Hell If I Know."

Rachel turned her head to look at Quinn as they stepped outside. "I thought you said it was your favorite bar?" Quinn spun them around, and pointed at the bar's sign. "Oh."

Quinn nodded, amused.

"Why would they do that?"

Quinn shrugged. "What just happened, Rachel?"

Rachel pursed her lips in thought before it dawned on her and her face lit up. "That's ingenious!"

Quinn shook her head, grinning at Rachel's antics. "Let's go, Einstein. I've got work tomorrow."

When they reached Quinn's building, Rachel stopped suddenly, fishing through her clutch. "What's up, Rach? Did you leave something?"

Rachel merely handed Quinn half of their winnings. "Take a cab home, please?" 

Quinn smiled warmly at her, eyes crinkling. "You're cute." She opened her arms to Rachel, and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Say goodnight to Toby for me."

Rachel merely nuzzled into Quinn's neck. "Roger, roger, captain." Quinn shivered as Rachel's lips ghosted along her neck, slipping out a shaky, imperceptible sigh before quickly letting go to hail a cab.

(On the way back to Rachel's condo, Quinn purposefully bumped her head on the taxi's window no less than twenty-three times.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Jonny Lang's "Rack 'em Up"


	3. Out on a Midnight Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in time, I would like to note that I only have, like, half of the next chapter pre-written, so anything beyond this chapter will be magnificently slow in comparison to, say, the previous chapters. Mainly because I'm currently slacking on ALL my creative projects, but also because I'm in an emotional funk.
> 
> Feel free to pester me at my tumblr and twitter, if you feel I haven't been updating. Because I like this fic, and we can't have what happened to my other fics (on fanfiction.net) happen to this one, can we...

The rest of the week was generally uneventful for the two of them. Rachel was pleased to be able to get up an hour later than usual and still be able squeeze in a bite to eat at the restaurant she and Quinn had discovered before leaving for her evening shows. Quinn's coworkers noticed a moderately less cranky Quinn, due in part to easy access to delicious coffee in the mornings, but mostly due to her lack of commuting. The two would send the odd non-sequitor text to one another, mostly asking where the other kept something in their apartment, and where was the best place to buy certain toiletries and necessities, but they mostly stuck to their less harried schedules for the week. 

The next Monday saw Quinn working overtime, fixing a bug her coworker had failed to notice, which had nearly resulted in their whole network crashing during business hours. Luckily, her oft-ridiculed background code diagnostic software (which she had written herself, for her graduate thesis) had caught the glitch before it was a major problem. Rachel understood Quinn's need to stay late, especially since it had been the director himself who had asked her to resolve the problem, offering her the next day off as compensation.

By the time Quinn had found and fixed the problem (and the three that resulted from that one) and righted all the wrongly modified data, the moon had long since set, and Rachel had already been asleep for hours. They'd texted throughout the night, and Quinn had, amusingly, watched as Rachel's texts became sloppier as the night wore on. (Apparently, over the course of one week, word had gotten out about the attractive female pool shark at Hell If I Know, and Rachel had not only been plied with free drinks, she also made about six hundred dollars that night.) But the texts weren't quite enough. Quinn had missed her friend's company, and had said so. The response had been the last text Rachel had sent before falling asleep in her (Quinn's) bed, and had nearly made Quinn drop her precious sugarless energy drink onto her keyboard, face aflame. 

Before leaving the office at the ungodly hour she found herself at (the eastern skyline was beginning to glow the slightest bit lighter blue than the black of night), a haggard looking Quinn looked at the text again. While the text itself was nearly indiscernible (somewhere between "me too. luv ya" and "mentoS luc upo"), the XOXO were crystal clear.

Quinn still didn't know what to make of it some time later, under Rachel's sheets in Rachel's condo, and, exhausted, she fell asleep to thoughts of the conundrum that was her former rival in love and current best friend (as she often did, and often had in their formative years, not that she would ever admit that to Rachel. Ever.).

* * *

The next day, Quinn awoke past noon, and, upon remembering her well-earned day off, spent her afternoon flipping channels on Rachel's TV, before succumbing to her workaholic nature and checking work emails. Most were just small and useless messages, or updates from her software on the no-longer-existent glitch, but one, from a not-as-familiar address, caught her attention.

It was her director, apparently inquiring on the status of the glitch. She beat out a quick response on how everything had been resolved, and how her software was giving her regular updates on the code as it parsed it, so not to worry, since it hadn't alerted her to anything else she needed to rush into work for.

His response was almost instantaneous, and very grateful, and she was practically ordered to enjoy the rest of her day off. Quinn settled back into Rachel's chaise, glad that she had checked her mail, and attempted to continue her lazy day of mindless consumption, but within an hour, she was once again restless.

Rachel's condo really was too quiet. It was unnerving (Rachel had mentioned, at one point, soundproofing it, so that she could rehearse to her heat's content) and Quinn hated being left alone with her thoughts. Sighing, she grabbed one of her (many) yoga shirts and a pair of running tights from Rachel's closet before lacing up her sneakers. A jog would probably help her clear her brain space, she mused.

The accident, so many years ago, was the reason why she didn't run much anymore (sometimes her legs would, halfway through a step, turn to jelly, and she would pitch forward or collapse, which was especially embarrassing on a treadmill. It was bothersome enough when her back would tense up and ache after the long hours at her desk, so she would do what she could to avoid any _other_ reminders of narrowly avoiding her death), choosing to focus, instead, on staying flexible with yoga. But there was something incredibly meditative about running which she would miss from time to time, and so she would relapse, going for runs or jogs when she felt restless or stressed, and even that happened very rarely.

She focused on her breathing, allowing the rhythmic pounding of her shoes on the pavement and the music from her phone to lull her into a semi trancelike state, only stopping and sitting on a random bench when she could feel her joints becoming displeased with her, having already pushed through that dull pulsing pain in her lower back that she had become accustomed to over the years. As her chest heaved, she frowned; her stamina wasn't what it used to be.

Also, she was magnificently lost… She didn't have the faintest idea where she was. Luckily for her, Rachel chose just that time to text her about a good place to buy Toby's cat food.

Amused, Quinn called Rachel. "The pet store… around the corner." Rachel hadn't even had time to say hello. "It's on the way to the… bar. Just make sure to… get the same brand and type, …okay?"

Quinn heard Rachel's voice, slightly muffled, relaying the instructions to someone that she presumed to be Alex, before coming back to the phone. _"You seem out of breath, woman. Is everything okay?"_

"Went for… a jog."

Rachel snorted over the phone, making Quinn roll her eyes with an affectionate grin. _"I bet your back's happy about that... Since when do you jog?"_

 _Since you started signing your text messages with XOXO._ "Old habits die hard… Rach."

The pause over the phone confused Quinn a little. When Rachel spoke again, it was much quieter, more reserved. _"That they do…"_

Quinn raised an eyebrow at that. Rachel only got like that when she felt guilty about something. "What did you do…?"

Rachel paused again, worrying Quinn further. _"I may have drunk bedazzled Toby's food dish…"_

"Rachel!!"

_"It was an accident!"_

"I really doubt that." Quinn didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or groan, and settled for just sighing into the phone. "Does it at least look good?"

 _"It's not my best work… And it's pink. I know you don't like pink."_ Quinn could clearly see Rachel purse her lips in her mind's eye. _"I'll replace it if you don't like it."_ Quinn shook her head, amused. She'd have to apologize to Toby later, because no matter what, the newly shiny food dish was staying (she tried to convince herself it was for future blackmail purposes, and failed miserably).

"Why did you bring your bedazzler to my place in the first place?" Quinn laughed when all she received as a response was pure radio silence. "Never mind that, I don't think I actually want to know. Anyway, I'm at the corner of 5th and 75th. Anything good to eat around here?"

 _"Isn't that what your precious google is for?"_ Quinn rolled her eyes, having been privy to more than one diatribe from Rachel about the misnomer that was smart phone, because how could something that was supposed to be smart be so incredibly dense and stupid? _"There should be a nice little diner about a three blocks east of you with some good vegan food. I'm sure it could have some carnivorous offerings as well."_

Quinn snorted. "Thanks Rach." When Rachel didn't respond, she pulled the phone from her ear. Maybe the signal had cut out or something. Just as she was going to end the call, Rachel spoke again.

_"…Quinn?"_

Quinn paused at Rachel's slight hesitancy. "Yeah, Rach?"

_"I missed you last night."_

Quinn smiled warmly. "I missed you too."

_"Don't get pulled into solving other people's messes anymore."_

"That's what I'm paid to do."

_"Well, stop being so good at it. Or learn how to get unpaid for it."_

Quinn rolled her eyes affectionately at Rachel's mock-stern tone of voice. "Yeah, okay, tips. I'll get right on that."

 _"That would be greatly appreciated."_ Quinn could almost see Rachel nod decisively. _"Now off with you, plebeian, I have to get ready for my show."_

Shaking her head at Rachel's typically atypical choice of vocabulary, Quinn beamed. "See you later, superstar."

_"Text me tonight?"_

"When don't I?" 

It turned out Rachel's diner choice had been spot on, and Quinn made a note to go back one morning to try their oatmeal banana chocolate chip vegan pancakes. And maybe their peach cobbler. And their dark chocolate mud pudding (made with tofu!).

She took the unreasonably long, scenic way back to the condo (that is to say, she made several wrong turns and got lost again), only to find herself bored and restless again within thirty minutes.

At least this time, it was late enough to start making dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Bruce Springsteen's song, "Night"


	4. When the Sun Sets Low

Quinn sighed. Another Friday night, and it was obvious to her now that she desperately needed a hobby. What did she even do besides work, yoga, and Netflix before serendipitously bumping into Rachel so long ago? (She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that she no longer remembered.)

The split second decision to crash Rachel's show that evening (to make up for that night earlier in the week, not just because she was bored and missing the brunette the longer she stayed in that condo, Quinn insisted to herself unsuccessfully) had her flagging a taxi, heels in hand, in one of her classier dresses, and doing her hair and makeup in the backseat on the way across town.

The squeal she received from Rachel when Quinn met her at the stage door made it all worth it. Rachel's attempts to hold in her laughter every time Quinn gushed out a, "Oh my god, can I get a picture with you?" in her tremulous alto deadpan, following that up by whipping out her smart phone, always made these kinds of trips worth it. And, for the umpteenth time, Quinn insisted on getting Rachel's (gold paint marker) autograph on a playbill, since she knew it would never, ever get old for Rachel. 

(And, she would always joke, she could always sell the playbills online if she was strapped for cash. Rachel would usually slap her upside the head, and then insist that Quinn would be very well taken care of, thank you very much, since she knew a Tony award winning leading lady on Broadway.)

Once Rachel had made her rounds at the stage door, she was quick to grab a taxi for the two of them, dragging Quinn in forcefully behind her. “Your timing is perfect, as usual.” The brunette reached across Quinn’s body to pull the taxi door closed. "We’re going to the some party thing tonight," Rachel announced to her after prattling off some address. "The whole cast is going. Some fancy Broadway elite gala that you really don't want me to go into detail about." Her eyes were shining in excitement and her barely suppressed ear-splitting grin was infectious. "It's been a while since we've been photographed together by the paparazzi though, hasn't it? There's going to be a red carpet and everything! It’s going to be so fun!! Oh, I'm so glad you came tonight!"

Rachel squeezed Quinn's arm tightly, and her laugh had Quinn giggling slightly, despite her inner turmoil about her hair and makeup, and was she well dressed enough? Because she hadn't noticed, but Rachel was wearing a proper gown tonight, and she'd just kind of thrown together her ensemble, and her heels didn't even match her clutch! And what abou–

Rachel squeezed her arm again, gentler this time. "You're thinking too loud again, Quinn Fabray. You look radiant, as usual."

It never ceased to amaze Quinn how easily Rachel could read her mind and assuage any fear she'd have at any given time. Quinn smiled at Rachel in thanks, leaning over to rest her head on the shorter woman's shoulder.

"Lee was supposed to come with you to this, wasn't he." Quinn felt the singer still slightly beneath her, a twinge of guilt going through her for dampening Rachel's excitement.

"I'm glad it's you instead," was the quiet response. Quinn closed her eyes, more than content with that, since the feeling was _so_ , so mutual.

* * *

In the past, Quinn was sometimes afforded the rare opportunity of accompanying Rachel to charity galas like the one they pulled into (between relationships, of course), so she wasn't too affronted by the blinding flashes as she stepped out of the taxi. She happily stood to the side as Rachel absorbed the cheers and the adoring calls of the fans and photographers, and posed, chatted, and smarmed with reporters, interviewers, and future wannabe Broadway stars alike. Half an hour passed before Rachel linked her arm through Quinn’s and finally walked into the venue. 

“Sorry for making you wait.” Rachel's eyes shone brightly, exhilarated, as her cheeks flushed a beautiful rosy pink.

Quinn rolled her eyes fondly. “You know as well as I do that you barely took any time with them.” And that she belonged there, with her legions of fans. It warmed Quinn's heart every time she was given the chance to experience Rachel's brilliance shine.

“Champagne?” Quinn nodded a polite thank you to the impeccably dressed waiter as she and Rachel both grabbed flutes of the bubbly liquid with their free hands.

“So…”

“So,” Quinn took a sip, throat dry, as her eyes fluttered around the opulent space, ceiling draped with flowing curtains and banners bearing the name of some charity Quinn didn’t recognize that presumably supported the arts. “Toby’s been behaving himself, right?”

“Of course he has.” Rachel tugged at Quinn, dragging them towards the middle of hall. “He always does.”

Quinn smiled. “I'm pretty sure he likes you better…” She stalled, eyes scanning a particular area, and Rachel looked back at her.

“Quinn?”

“Sorry, I thought I saw North West.”

Rachel perked up. “Really? Where?” She stopped just short of jumping to see over the crowd, and Quinn held in her chortle as Rachel muttered obscenities at her genetic vertical disadvantages.

“I’m sure you’ll see her some other time, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Rachel’s ardent eyes pierced her with their intensity. “I have this fantastic idea for a song that I've been meaning to do with her and her father, but despite multiple attempts, I haven’t been able to get in contact with her agent." Rachel turned back to the crowd, going up onto her toes in an attempt to see further. "This might be my only chance!"

Quinn watched Rachel strain to see beyond the crowd, amused. "I'll help you find her later, okay? Just..." Quinn moved in quickly as Rachel teetered on a single stiletto heel. She wrapped her arms around Rachel from behind, holding Rachel steady as she wobbled unsteadily from all her movement. "Don't waste any of your champagne or anything."

Rachel leaned back onto Quinn, and Quinn caught a whiff of Rachel's perfume, spicy and sweet. The blonde felt her breath catch slightly in her throat. "Right, the champagne." Rachel took a sip. "Can't be wasting any of that." Rachel inclined her head to look up at Quinn, an amused smirk playing across her face.

Quinn shrugged, heat rushing into her cheeks. "What? Some of us are plebeians that can't always afford the good stuff!" She drained the glass, hoping the alcohol would be a good excuse for her flushed cheeks.

Rachel laughed then, leaving Quinn to roll her eyes fondly at the other woman as she subtly tightened her hold on the beautiful brunette.

* * *

True to her word, Quinn pushed Rachel towards North as soon as she seemed unoccupied (which happened to be near the end of the night), continuing their mutual conversation with one of Rachel's attractive new cast mates, Taryn, who had recently joined the ensemble, in a quiet alcove they had miraculously found.

Taryn looked up at Quinn through her eyelashes as she paused to sip at her martini. "I much prefer you to Lee, to be honest."

Quinn hummed, distracted by Rachel's laughter as North smiled down at the diminutive woman.

"He was a little crotchety for his age, don't you think?" Quinn looked back at the attractive, raven haired actress with a guffaw.

"Oh god, yes, wasn't he just such an old soul? But not in a good way at all!"

"You're much more attractive by far." Taryn smiled coyly as Quinn swallowed too much of her latest flute of champagne in surprise and ended up choking. "The indomitable Rachel Berry has chosen well this time."

Bent over and sputtering, Quinn could only wave her free hand in an attempt to indicate the negative. Taryn waited, dark eyes moderately concerned. "Sorry, ...wrong tube," Quinn croaked out between gasping breaths, alcohol burning her windpipe.

Once she could breathe again, Quinn merely stated that she and Rachel were, "just friends who've known each other for way too long, unfortunately," and that she was merely a last minute stand-in plus one at this event.

“Just friends, huh?” Taryn waggled her eyebrows in faux-understanding as she took a long sip of her dirty martini, polishing it off. “You guys are cute, though, seriously. When did you two meet, anyway?” The dark skinned beauty placed her empty glass on a deserted table (that a silent, smartly dressed man magically appeared to clear), cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

Quinn smirked. She may have signed up to stare at computers day after day, but she could still read people like an open book. Taryn was looking for something... “Have you read her memoirs?”

“Cover to cover, multiple times, I’m actually a huge fan!” Taryn’s cheeks darkened as she gushed, and Quinn mentally patted herself on the back; she’d had a feeling about Taryn. "Every day’s a dream, I swear!” Sparkling brown eyes widened in excitement and understanding as the actress moved closer to Quinn. “No… You’re in it?"

“You know that chapter on high school?” Taryn nodded, listening intently. “The head cheerleader with the exterior of ice and the heart of gold?"

“No!” A dramatic hand flew up to cover a mouth that had fallen agape in disbelief. “That was you?” Quinn nodded, smirking. These reactions were always her favourite, after all. Rachel would be disappointed later when she found out that she'd missed the dramatics. “With the slushies? And th– and the speech that set her straight? And the car acci–"

“Yup.” Quinn snorted in self-deprecation. “And now I’m a former cheerleader that does IT support for some fancy Fortune 500, and she’s wowing the world with her talent, like we all always knew she would.”

“You’re much prettier than I thought you’d be…” Quinn snorted as Taryn, flustered, tried to make what she’d blurted out sound slightly less offensive. “I mean, she made you out to be such a bitch!"

Quinn shrugged. “I would have done the same, if I’d been her. I was pretty horrible.”

“But you two go that far back, huh…” Quinn nodded at Taryn’s words, amused at how impressed Taryn was. “I would ask what she was like in high school, but I’ve already read about that.” Quinn laughed, and merely stated that Rachel hadn’t really changed that much over the years. “But that must be why you two seem so comfortable around each other.” Quinn quirked an eyebrow, confused. “It was really nice to see her laugh and poke fun like she does sometimes during rehearsal. She smiled less when Lee was with her the last couple times.”

“That’s because Lee was a pretentious asshole with a stick up his anus who wouldn’t know a catch if it smacked him in the teeth with a two-by-four, and honestly, Rachel should have broken it off with him before they even got serious. He bored me to tears the first time we met with his talk about how amazing the prohibition era was!” Taryn’s smug grin at Quinn’s verbal attack on Rachel’s ex had the blonde blushing, though she wasn’t sure why. “What?”

“Nothing.” Taryn just shook her head dismissively, chuckling. “Just friends, huh… next thing you know, she’ll be introducing you as her "roommate".” Quinn’s cheeks burned. She knew she’d been caught. Taryn poked her tongue out at Quinn cheekily.

“Fangirls.” Quinn rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. Taryn laughed, amused by Quinn’s antics.

“Keeping my woman entertained, Taryn?” Quinn groaned as Rachel looped her arm around the blonde’s shoulder (much to the entertainment of Taryn), evidently finished with North. Rachel’s grin could not be contained, so it was evident that the chat had been a success. “You’re blushing!” Rachel’s cool fingers poked at Quinn’s warm cheeks. “You haven’t blushed this much since that time Satan told me about that time with the–“

Quinn clapped her hands down on Rachel’s mouth before her head imploded from embarrassment. It was bad enough that Santana had aired her dirty laundry the one time, she wasn’t about to let Rachel do so again. Her voice dropped low as her eyes narrowed. “We agreed we wouldn’t speak of that incident. Ever.” Rachel’s eyebrow darted up in challenge, since she’d apparently agreed to no such thing, but rolled her eyes as Quinn dropped her hand. Taryn tittered, and Quinn chanced a glance back towards her. “Rach, did you know that Taryn has a copy of your memoirs?”

“Really? Taryn, you should have told me! I would have signed your copy!” Taryn’s cheeks darkened again as Rachel’s focus shifted to her. Quinn happily stepped back to watch as the brunette flitted around her castmate, questions flowing from her lips.

* * *

“Toby misses you.” They were in another cab, heading to Rachel’s, well, technically Quinn’s, condo, having said goodbye to Taryn and the rest of the cast moments before. Tipsy Rachel, as she was wont to do, found Quinn’s shoulder to be the most comfortable pillow, and Quinn’s hands were the most interesting things to play with, and, as always, Quinn was happy to let Rachel do as she pleased.

“I miss the fuzzball too.” A car honked, long and loud, somewhere in the distance. “I hadn’t realized how much I depended on him for entertainment.”

Somehow, Quinn’s free hand had found its way into Rachel’s hair, and Rachel purred quietly as Quinn lightly scratched her scalp. “Thank you for coming tonight.” Rachel laced their fingers together, causing Quinn’s breath to catch. “...even though I sprung it on you in such an unseemly manner. I’d thought of asking you earlier, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy.”

Quinn chuckled at that. They both knew that she would have dropped anything, if Rachel had asked. “You would’ve just had to tell me about the free champagne, you know that.” Quinn could feel Rachel’s smile on her shoulder at her words.

“I hope the foie gras was to your liking.” It definitely had been. It was rich, savoury, and cooked to perfection, exactly the way Quinn liked it. "If it wasn’t, I’ll write a letter to the organizers about getting a new catering company next time.” 

Quinn squeezed Rachel’s hand softly, fighting to ignore the feeling of Rachel’s thumb drawing patterns on the back of her hand. “It was probably as good as you made the vegan option seem.”

“The vegan option was quite phenomenal!”

“I figured as much.” Quinn smirked, picturing Rachel’s face as she’d eaten it. Small talk had basically been impossible due to the faces of pleasure the brunette had been making as she'd partaken in her meal. “You made it look better than sex...”

The lengthy pause after Quinn’s quiet murmur and the way Rachel ducked her head let Quinn know that Rachel was probably blushing up a storm. “Maybe not that good, but it was pretty close!”

They passed much of the rest of the ride in silence. Quinn never really understood what it meant that Rachel was content with being quiet around her, since the woman was a passion incarnate, but if Rachel was happy, so was she. As they came to a stop in front of Quinn’s building, Rachel pulled away from Quinn’s shoulder with a minute sigh before getting ready to exit the cab. After settling the cab fee, and halfway out the door, she turned back to the Quinn, a conflicted look on her face.

“…It’s quite late, um… you should just stay here with m-,” Rachel paused, collecting her thoughts, as Quinn canted her head in confusion. When the brunette spoke again, her speech was stilted, unsure. "I mean, Toby misses you, and... you professed to missing Toby. And… I…” Rachel looked away as she trailed off, a delicate blush colouring her cheeks.

“I missed you, too, Rach.” Rachel responded to Quinn’s warm smile with a beaming grin that warmed Quinn’s heart, and stirred up fluttering butterflies in her stomach that really had no business being there. Inwardly, Quinn groaned. She really shouldn’t stay, but she knew she could never say no to that face.

Rachel grabbed Quinn’s hand again, as if she  _knew_ Quinn’s dilemma, and tugged them both out of the cab. “I’m glad the sentiment is mutual, then. You are staying, right?”

“Well, I’m sure the fur ball wouldn’t mind.” Quinn shrugged noncommittally, smiling softly as she followed Rachel towards her building. It wasn't like she had work in the morning or anything.

And Rachel always made her couch seem  _so_ comfortable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from "It's Friday" by Dean Brody, ft. The Great Big Sea
> 
> Shout out to a Canadian musicians!!


	5. The Sun Poured in like Butterscotch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the last update until April. If there are any between now and April, it's because something miraculously allowed me enough time to work on the next chapter. Work related issues, like getting my life in order enough to leave the country again, as well as work itself, is going to get in the way of me doing anything productive in these lines. My apologies in advance.

It was a suffocating, heavy warmth on Quinn's face that had her pushing through her sleep to consciousness the next morning. That, and a familiar kneading sensation on her collarbone and a deep purr of satisfaction that she recognized, annoyingly enough.

"Toby..." She growled, voice still husky from sleep. Doing her best not to inhale her overly sentimental cat in her need to breathe, she slowly sat up, giving Toby enough time to get off her face without scratching her. It was an art she wasn't particularly fond of having mastered, but Toby had a strange way of showing affection when she'd been away, and, well, Quinn would take kitty loving wherever she could.

She squinted sleepily around her, taking in her surroundings, and found herself in her own bed (except... not entirely hers, what with the fuchsia duvet cover and all), which was slightly jarring (but in a good way). Rachel was leaning on the doorframe leading to the ensuite bathroom in her pyjamas, shoulders shaking with barely concealed laughter.

“Jerk.” Quinn narrowed her eyes further before flopping back down onto the bed, murmuring about cats and fairweather friends who would rather find amusement at her expense than be useful. She cuddled back into the blankets, attempting to drift off again, when Rachel sat down on the edge of the bed, causing it to dip slightly.

"Up and at'em, tiger!" Quinn could hear the fond amusement lacing the brunette's words as Rachel pulled at the covers. "Toby's merely the messenger, bringing-"

"Good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people?" It was a grumble, one that was greatly muffled by the rustle of Quinn burrowing deeper into the mattress in an attempt to ward off the inevitable. She loathed mornings.

"What?" Quinn used Rachel's confusion to steal back any headway the songstress had made on blanket removal. "No, news of breakfast, you WASPy buffoon." Quinn refused to budge, though the promise of food was remarkably enticing. "There's even bacon." Rachel stood then, having played her trump card, before slowly walking backwards towards the bedroom door.

Quinn sat upright as soon as Rachel's last words had clicked in her sleep-addled brain. “Bacon?" This wasn't a joke, was it? She'd be able to smell the bacon if it was ready (which she couldn't, by the way).

Her disbelief must have been evident on her face, because Rachel moved remarkably fast to assuage it. "Alex is bringing it."

Which meant the bacon hadn't arrived yet. Quinn took the opportunity to fall backwards, eyes already closed. "Wake me up when he gets here."

"You're incorrigible." It was a playful growl, one that meant that Rachel would forgive her, in time, but not without ribbing on her later on.

Quinn yawned. "You love it." She thought she heard Rachel say something, but wasn't sure if she had actually responded or not; the sandman was too hard to resist.

* * *

Alex's arrival set forth a flurry of motion, basically of Quinn bounding out of bed, pulling on some ratty old Yale sweats, and throwing her hair up into a lazy morning up do. Rachel watched the entire thing from the kitchen table, which she'd even taken the time to set, an amused smirk on her face.

When Quinn finally slumped over and joined Rachel, her bowls of coconut yogurt and cut fruit both untouched in front of her (she had waited for Quinn to start eating), she made sure to remark that it'd be a shame if Rachel's pretty face froze in that expression, especially in her line of work. This inexplicably had Rachel blushing prettily into her venti soy no foam white mocha latte, markedly speechless for the first time that morning. Quinn paid her no mind, however, opting instead to sing Alex's praises when she picked up her first piece of bacon.

"I luff baecom," Quinn beamed lazily as she swallowed.

"I know." Rachel blew on her coffee to cool it slightly. "Why do you think I ordered it? Because I, a vegan Jew, wanted to eat it?" Her eye roll had Quinn wondering if she practiced the move in front of a mirror. It was a work of mastery. (Knowing Rachel, she probably had, once upon a time, until it had become second nature to her to roll her eyes dramatically.)

Scarfing down her second piece of bacon, Quinn's eyes crinkled merrily. "You're the best..." Reaching for her coffee, she took a whiff, closing her eyes in pleasure as she instantly recognized her favourite brand of coffee. "... shorty, the best I ever had."

Rachel's nose crinkling in distaste, and her indignant, "that's not how it goes, Quinn!" was covered by Quinn's low, rumbling moan of pleasure at her first sip of coffee for the morning.

"Oh my god, marry me?" 

Rachel choked on her next sip of coffee, wheezing. "Is that to me, or the coffee?"

Quinn paused, and upon realizing what she'd said, smirked at Rachel, winking. "The coffee, of course..."

Rachel coughed, still trying to get past the burning in her larynx from the overheated coffee. "Well, that's good, because I definitely would _not_ have accepted your proposal if you'd asked me in that ridiculous ensemble!" Quinn glanced down at her sloth-like appearance with a self deprecating chuckle. It was pretty schlumpy. "Also, we haven't even had a first date, so springing something on me like that is much too sudden, Quinn, so it would have been terribly bad form." She gesticulated with her fork, a twinkle in her eye. "You, of all people, know that I expect my suitors to follow a certain protocol for this type of thing."

Quinn nodded, all mock-seriousness. "Duly noted." She hoped to dear God she hadn't blushed at any point during that conversation.

That would be mortifying.

* * *

It wasn't long afterwards that Rachel left for her show, Quinn leaving with her (after changing into more public-appropriate attire, saying goodbye to Toby, and ribbing on a blushing Rachel about Toby's newly improved water dish)  to go back to Rachel's condo across town.  

In the foyer, they drew several stares as Rachel all but shoved several bills in Quinn's direction, ardently insisting Quinn take a cab. Quinn, as hard as she tried, didn't seem able to turn Rachel down, much to the amusement to several of her fellow condo residents.

"I'll take transit, don't worry!"

"On a Saturday afternoon, this close to Times Square? Carrying all that?" Quinn looked down at her garment bag, heels, and clutch, and winced slightly. "No, absolutely not." Rachel pressed the several bills into Quinn's slightly less occupied hand. "Take a cab, please, as thanks for last night."

Quinn tried to hand the cash back, but Rachel stepped deftly back and out of reach. "Wasn't breakfast already-"

Rachel waved her off, scrunching up her face adorably at the mere thought of that. "No, not at all! Besides, do you mean to tell me that your beautiful dress would escape unscathed in your arms at this time of the day on a Saturday on the _subway_?"

Quinn had to accept then... The dress had cost a small fortune, and was one of her favourites. She clenched the bills in her hand a little harder, a gentle smile playing on her face. "Thank you."

Rachel paused slightly before stepping in to give Quinn an awkward hug (awkward in that Quinn's hands were definitely occupied, making it remarkably one-sided). "You mean so much to me, you know that?" Quinn nodded slowly, confused as to where this was going. "I have to keep my Quinn safe, you know."

Quinn merely croaked around a sudden lump in her throat as she attempted to wrap her heavily laden arms around the petite singer back. Rachel's Quinn. Wouldn't that be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Joni Mitchell's "Chelsea Morning"


	6. Flashes of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still very much on hiatus, and still very much living in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Things may (read: won't) return to a more regular updating schedule in May. But here's a thing to tide you all over in the meantime.
> 
> _Ciao ciao, bellas!_

Quinn spent the rest of her weekend buried in books, having swiped one of her favourites from her shelf on her way out of her old place. Once she’d finished that, she’d quickly searched for the nearest used bookstore and bought herself a small (read: large) pile of reading material, familiar or otherwise, and set up camp on Rachel’s cushy chaise. It felt like coming home, and the quiet in Rachel’s condo was much less discomfiting when interrupted by the turn of a page and the engrossing stories they held. In fact, the stories were so engrossing that she barely remembered to eat, let alone check her phone.

It didn’t take her long, upon getting to work the next Monday, to realize that this had been a mistake. The less brazen of her coworkers stared openly at her, while the less reserved remarked to her that she must have “gotten lucky” over the weekend or some sort of thing. She had no idea what they were talking about, until she finally checked her phone in her office, only to realize she’d missed more than a couple texts from friends.

And about forty from Rachel. Shit.

Opting against starting work right away, Quinn quickly called the other woman, already wincing at apparently having missed so much.

_“Asshole! You’re alive!”_

Quinn grimaced at Rachel’s volume. “Sorry… I got caught up in something.”

There was a pause on the other line, before Rachel drawled out, _“Something or someone?”_

“No…?” Quinn wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be a touch of something else in Rachel’s voice, slightly less than just cheekiness.  "I bought myself some books and… I guess I got a little caught up in them.”

Rachel snorted slightly. _“And there’s an unorganized pile of them strewn around the bottom of my chaise.”_

Quinn shook her head in amusement. “Is that a question?” Rachel laughed, before stating that it was, indeed, a statement of fact, and they both knew it. “Anyways, what’s up that has you texting me so much?”

 _“Did you even read my texts?”_ Rachel’s groan when Quinn indicated the opposite had the blonde furrowing her brow in confusion. _“Of course not. Well, you know, the usual.”_ Quinn could almost see Rachel shrug. In her mind’s eye, she could also see that Rachel was attempting to soften a blow of some sort. The usual did not necessitate so many attempts at communication, and they both knew it. _“I’m probably making it out to be more than it is…”_ Quinn propped her feet up on her desk, leaning back in her chair as she waited for Rachel to stop stalling. _“There were paparazzi outside your condo Saturday morning.”_

“So?” Rachel chuckled slightly on the other line. “Are we dating? That’s nothing too new…” Quinn sighed minutely. “And it should blow over pretty quickly.” Unfortunately.

_“They got me giving you money for the cab.”_

“….Ohhhh...” Why was that an issue… Quinn’s mind quickly ran through the morning, down to her schlumpy outfit, the way it would have looked to a naive outside, and chuckled at one of the worst implications that could have been drawn from that moment. “So am I now a cheap call girl?” Quinn smirked a little, twirling her hair with her free hand. “Next time, make sure to hand me a wad of Benji’s. At least then I can be a classy escort.”

_“…you don’t mind?”_

“When have I ever? Besides, maybe now I can add that to my CV or something! I can see it already, under Head Network Technician. ‘Fictional High Class Escort’. It’ll look great on my LinkedIn profile.” Quinn smiled at Rachel’s giggle before rolling her eyes. “Besides, you’d think they’d recognize me by now.”

_“I know, right?”_

Quinn threw her feet off the table and sat up straight upon hearing a knock at her door, turning to see the department head, Brad, at the door. “Sorry, Rach, I actually have to start work. I’ll see you tonight?” She smiled apologetically at the man, but he waved her off, apparently willing to wait for the end of the call.

It mustn’t be urgent then, Quinn mused.

_“Toby and I will be waiting, possibly with dinner already made.”_

Quinn felt her eyebrow quirk upwards of its own accord as she smirked. “You mean Alex will be getting take out.”

Rachel snorted, making Quinn grin. _“You know me so well. Bye, Quinn, love you.”_

What the fu-? Quinn’s eyes widened, and she sputtered noiselessly before disconnecting the call. 

She didn’t have time to dwell on that though, because Brad and his partner apparently loved Rachel’s last musical, and could she, by any chance, get them an autograph or something? Or maybe tickets of some sorts.

Well, at least getting revealed as being best friends with New York’s darling diva hadn’t actually changed since the last time it happened. It was almost laughable how predictable it was.

* * *

Unlocking the door of her condo to the scent of delicious food, however, was something that Quinn could get used to.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Rachel, who had evidently been serenading Toby, who had curled up on her lap, stopped and turned abruptly, beaming at Quinn from her place on the couch. “Welcome home!”

Quinn felt a tug on her heartstrings at that, but she mentally shook it off. She watched Toby launch himself off of Rachel’s lap, possibly because Rachel stopped petting him (having gotten up, presumedly to set the table or something), and possibly because Quinn was home, and he missed her. She chose to believe the latter. “The take out smells delicious!” She bent down to smooth Toby’s ears to his head as he twined himself between her legs, smiling down at the feline. “I missed you, cutie.”

“I missed you too, Quinn!” came from the direction of the kitchen. Quinn chuckled, smirking, as she turned towards the kitchen doorway, where Rachel was leaning on the doorframe with a massive grin, plates of steaming take out in hand.

“I was talking to the cat.” Rachel’s blush blossomed across her face, as she let out an embarrassed giggle. Quinn fought to keep the grin off her face. “But I missed you, too, Rach.” Quinn quickly took her boots off before straightening up, reaching to put her keys in the familiar key dish on the side table. “I mean, it’s been more than forty-eight hours since I last saw you!”

“Shut up, you ass.” Rachel’s playful scowl didn’t detract from the continued rosiness of her cheeks. “See if I don’t spit in your entree.” Quinn followed her into the dining area, silently chuckling, as Toby padded in softly behind.

* * *

They decided on a night in, partly because they wanted to wait for the kerfuffle of the last weekend to blow over, and partly because Rachel desperately wanted to marathon some science fiction show that she’d heard rave reviews about.

“Tatiana’s in it. Apparently it’s her break out role, and she plays, like, five characters or something.” Rachel shrugged. “She mentioned wanting to work together, so I thought it’d be prudent to see her early repertoire.”

Quinn figured it’d be fine (it was Tatiana, after all), and was pleasantly surprised to find Rachel get super engrossed in the show. They’d long ago vetoed any horror-or-suspense-related media, because Rachel was incredibly easily startled, so Quinn found herself with a jumpy Rachel within the first ten minutes of the pilot.

It wasn’t long before Toby gave up on cuddles (Quinn wasn't sure if she imagined the little huff of annoyance from the cat as he jumped down from the top of her couch). But Quinn didn’t mind, really, especially since Rachel spent about one third of every episode turned into her chest or grasping her arm.

“It’s over, you chicken.” Rachel glanced back up at the screen before squeaking as the punk Tatiana found a bloody doll head. “Okay, maybe it’s not…”

“Jerk.” Rachel’s voice was muffled by the fabric of the Yale sweats Quinn had changed into after dinner.

“Wuss.”

“You love it.” Quinn rolled her eyes and didn’t respond, instead petting Rachel’s hair soothingly. They lapsed into silence as the punk Tatiana yelled at her foster brother about something. Again.

* * *

Several hours later, Quinn carefully shifted forward to switch off the television, careful not to jostle the presumedly sleeping Rachel resting on her chest.

“Quinn…?” Quinn hummed questioningly, fingers continuing to run through Rachel’s silky locks. Rachel paused a while, before burrowing closer, mumbling a sleepy, contented, “You’re my favourite person.”

Quinn smiled softly. For now, that would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Matt and Kim's "Cameras"


End file.
